


Beneath the Surface

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [44]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Demonic Possession, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Psychological Torture, Suicide mention, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, this is dark dark dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: The demons decide not to make things easy for Lip.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Series: What We Do In The Dark [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1366063
Comments: 18
Kudos: 46





	Beneath the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE pay attention to the tags. This is dark. If you wanna skip, shoot me a message and I'll fill you in. Just a note of reassurance for what it's worth: There is no actual suicide or non-con. Just demons making suggestions.
> 
> Also, as a pick me up, I will post a short, fluffy, unrelated holiday Baberoe ficlet tomorrow.

The words echoed strangely, burbled, like he was hearing their distortion from the end of a very long hall, or maybe under water.

“ _What makes you so special, huh?_ Far as I can tell, you’re just another bag of bones. Meat and blood and too many feelings.” Cobb used Carwood’s fists to punch the bloodied cement wall again. His knuckles cracked, sickeningly, and he could _feel_ it. He thought he might vomit. Again.

“Maybe he’s a good fuck?” Babe’s slightly nasally voice called from across the room. No, not Babe. _Dike_. That was the demon’s name.

“Maybe,” Carwood’s voice mused, darkly, “but I doubt it. You should hear this guy’s thoughts. Pure as the driven snow.”

“Maybe that’s why Speirs likes him.”

“Hmmm…you may be right. Dirty his pretty little soul right up.” _Is that what it was like, worm? Did he have his nasty way with you? Soil you a bit? Get you to do all sorts of sick little things?_

Carwood raised his head from where he slouched in the back of his shadowy, makeshift cage, trapped somewhere inside himself, and said **Why don’t you ask him yourself?**

 _Don’t get uppity in there. You think you’ve had it bad so far? I could do a lot worse. I could make_ you _do a lot worse. You see that soft, beautiful Babe across the room? Imagine the things we could do to_ him _._

Carwood didn’t have to imagine. Cobb flashed images of it across his mind and this time, Carwood did puke, but only in his mind, it seemed, within the confines of his cell. The demon laughed. 

_I thought you’d be made of tougher stuff, Lip. Thought you were a hunter, huh?_

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Carwood glowered at his captor (a smudge of sulfurous smoke wearing Carwood’s own face), though it made him feel like a crazy person to do it. This whole thing was crazy. Absolute bedlam.

He’d lost control of his body back in that alleyway in South Philly, but he’d unfortunately been conscious most of the time since then. He remembered his hands grabbing Babe and pinning him to the wall for Dike to take. He remembered trying to stop his feet from moving forward as he’d marched into Toye’s and wrought devastation there. The demon invading his body had clapped Carwood’s hands together and sent the Pack members crashing into walls amidst the sounds of screams and shattering glass and bones breaking. Then the demon, _Cobb,_ had lit the place on fire.

Carwood remembered raging against it, banging against the walls that had come down around him, like police glass-he could see out, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d fought to stop it, he’d cursed at the demon, had tried to exorcise it from the inside, but the thing had only laughed at him and knocked him around. 

With a shudder, he remembered Babe (Dike!) breaking each of his fingers. Remembered Cobb healing him up again, just so that they could be broken once more. Carwood had sobbed. He _had_. He’d sobbed and he’d clawed, desperately at the glass. When Babe’s hands had wrapped around his neck and begun to choke him, Carwood had thought maybe this was it, this was the end, but just as the lights had started to go out, the pressure on his throat had eased and his body had sucked in a deep breath, Cobb chuckling as Carwood’s lungs refilled with much-needed air. His body had just stopped tingling when fingers tangled in his hair and smashed his face against the cement wall. Once, twice, _three for good measure._

_How’s that feel, baby boy? Rough enough for ya?_

**Go…fuck…yourself.** Carwood heaved, his very essence quaking in his cell.

_I just might. Take you for a ride. What do you think Speirs would think about that? Do you think it’d hurt him?_

**You’re too much of a coward to find out. Just like you’re too much of a coward to give me a minute. That’s it. That’s all it’d take.**

_No, kiddo, you’re not gonna get me with your reverse psychology bullshit. You’re gonna stay good and locked up ‘til we need you. Then you’re gonna holler. Real loud. Let’s practice._

Carwood wished he could black out. But he couldn’t.

* * *

_What do you think would be worse, Lip? That Speirs doesn’t really love you? Or that he does?_

Carwood sat against the glass wall, arms crossed over his chest. He wouldn’t give this son of a bitch the satisfaction. He _wouldn’t._ Still, though, some of his thoughts must’ve leaked through, just a hint of **does he?** Just enough that he could feel his own lips curl, against his will, in satisfaction.

 _You wanna know what I think, boyo? I think he does. I heard that teary confession of his._ Now, Cobb’s voice (Carwood’s!) imitated Ron’s: _Please, I’ll do anything. I love you._ Cobb snorted. _And then you told him you’d send him back to Hell. You’re a man after my own heart, Lip. He deserves it, doesn’t he? He deserves a lot more than that._

**Shut the fuck up and face him, then. Go on, if you’re so bad. A demon can kill a demon, right? Or are you just not DEMON enough for it?**

_Not that kind of demon, unfortunately. But I don’t need to be, you stubborn little bitch. Because you’re gonna do my job for me. He’s gonna come running for you, you know. Oh, yes, he will, but by the time he gets to you, there won’t be anything left inside of you except for a puddle of soup. That’s what’s gonna be left of you when I leave. I’m gonna crack your spine into pebbles. Shred your liver. Pulverize your heart. The best damn doctor in the world would put you out of your own misery. Even that witch couldn’t save you. So go ahead. Taunt me. Speirs is gonna watch you die, horrifically, bloody, crying for him. And then we’re gonna leave him here and watch him break. So. You were saying?_

Carwood didn’t have anything else to say.

* * *

Cobb slumped against the wall, Carwood’s legs crossed casually in front of him, and he leisurely peeled Carwood’s fingernails back from the nail beds. Inside, Carwood curled his hands protectively against the glass walls and bit his lip so hard it would’ve bled if it was real. Every so often, he broke and whimpered and Cobb would laugh with Carwood’s voice. It was dark, though, humorless. Sadistic.

Across the room, Dike sprawled out on a dusty, torn-up couch, Babe’s long, gangly limbs hanging loosely over the side. Carwood watched as Dike pulled a phone from the redhead’s pocket, dialed a number, then pressed it to his ear. Despite Carwood’s own immense, blinding pain, he fought through the haze to listen.

“Hello, lover. I trust you’re feeling better?” Babe’s voice wasn’t his own—Dike’s words were slick, smooth, taunting. Carwood had never heard Babe speak like that. He could guess who was on the other end of the line, and he’d never wished more than now that the Doc could read his mind. 

He couldn’t hear the other end of the call, but then Dike sighed and said “Don’t worry your pretty little head. They’re both alive. For now.” Dike turned Babe’s usually kind brown eyes (now grown cold and calculating) Carwood’s way. “Though, I’ve gotta say, Lipton’s been having a real hard time of it. And even our poor, sweet Babe isn’t doing too well. These two have been locked up a long time with no one but each other. You know how boys can be, don’t you?” The laugh was dark, chilling. “Jealous?” Carwood couldn’t hear the words, but he could hear an angry buzzing sound coming from the phone. “Don’t be. He’s still only got eyes for you. Don’t believe me? Listen, sweetheart.” Suddenly, Dike cleared Babe’s throat, and, adopting the kid’s voice, cried “ _GENE, HELP ME! PLEASE, PLEASE, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! GENE, IT HURTS SO BAD! PLEASE!”_

He could hear commotion through the line now, a frantic yelling, though he still couldn’t hear the words, just a lot of noise. 

Babe’s voice chuckled now, low, sensual. “Think about that, handsome. And think of me, too. See you in five days.” Then Dike hung up the phone and stretched Babe’s long, lean body across the couch, apparently content with himself.

* * *

_You know, we were gonna kill you early, but I think we’re gonna keep you for a while longer. Don’t want our poor little Babe getting lonely and bored, now do we? Besides,_ Cobb sneered, running one of Carwood’s broken, bloodied hands down his own chest and belly, _you are a fair specimen, aren’t you? Despite that hideous scar on your face. Speirs must enjoy broken things. You’re pathetic._

Carwood pressed his lips into a tight line. He wouldn’t engage this time. No matter what.

_You’ve had a hard life, haven’t you, boyo? First daddy died when you were just a boy. And then vampires came and ate your mommy and baby bro. And you were too weak to do a damn thing about it. Like I said. Pathetic. You haven’t done anything worthwhile since then. You fucked a demon. That’s sick. And you betrayed your friends. Hell, you couldn’t even save them in the end. I bet you wanted to end it, didn’t you? At least once? Come on, Lip, be honest with yourself._

Carwood clenched his hands together and closed his eyes, shutting out the glass walls and everything else. He felt like an animal in a cage—with an angry child shaking it to try to wake him up and get him to react. 

_You can’t hide from me, Lip. We’re in this together. ‘Til the end. So come on. Give us the teary confession. I’m all ears._

Carwood cleared his throat but kept his eyes closed, shut tight against Cobb’s prying. His eyes didn’t flutter and he didn’t utter a scream—not even when Cobb started with the nails again. 

Instead, Carwood found himself thinking, somewhere in the darkest recesses of his mind, somewhere deep enough that even Cobb hadn’t ventured there—maybe he hadn’t even noticed that particular corner. **All I need is one moment of clarity—one moment as myself. If I can get that charm off, then Ron can find me. He’ll come and he’ll kill these fuckers.** And at this point, Carwood didn’t even care if he went down with the demons, just as long as it ended, soon, before there was nothing left of him, before Cobb could do anything worse. And Babe. God, _Babe._ **He’s just a kid.**

**One moment is all I need.**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love, dear readers. Let me know what you thought. Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.


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